


This is Forever

by blueabsinthe



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Drabble Collection, M/M, Prompt Fic, Vancouver Canucks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-18
Updated: 2012-12-18
Packaged: 2017-11-21 11:07:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/597027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueabsinthe/pseuds/blueabsinthe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From Vancouver, to New York, to Montreal, to the spaces in between</p>
            </blockquote>





	This is Forever

**Author's Note:**

> For the song prompt challenge that said: Put your iPod on random/shuffle. Write one story for each song ONLY while the song is playing. Written back in 2011. Posting here for archiving purposes.

**Allison Krause - The Stills - 3:06**

_So what do you say? So what do I pay?/ The cards out on the table, the cards out on the table_

It always struck Chris how some things never change. Like, how Max could always manage to hide his emotions. Chris knew he was the only one Max let in. He was the only one Max allowed to chip away at his carefully built armour. 

Maybe that was why they had a bond no-one could possibly explain, or understand. 

Chris turns onto his side, watching the way the sun's rays hit Max's cheekbones. The way Max's dark lashes lie in contrast to his cheeks. It makes Chris smile as he reaches a hand out to run it through Max's dark hair. 

Max stirs, and blinks sleepily at Chris. 

"Morning," Chris says.

-x-

**Hook me Up - The Veronicas - 2:56**

_Where should we go?/ I don't even care/ Anywhere is good enough/ Hook me up_

After losing the Cup, Max wishes he could take Chris' hand and whisk him away on a flight to Montreal. He wants to get lost in his hometown; the winding streets of old Montreal call to him like a siren's song. Chris' eyes - as crystal blue as the sky on a cloudless day - always make Max speechless. They make him get lost in their depths. 

"Max," Chris says, holding the door to their apartment complex open.

"Come with me," Max blurts out without thinking.

"Where?"

"Anywhere." Max steps closer, runs a hand through Chris' hair. "I don't care where. I just want you there."

-x-

**With these Eyes - Roch Voisine - 4:29**

_With these eyes/ You're everything to me/ Without your love/ I'd wind up down upon my knees_

Max doesn't realize what it is about Chris he can never forget until he's staring at him after being away from him for close to a year.

Chris carries the ocean in his eyes. 

The blue of the sea, and the sky. Max wants to get lost in the depths, let the whorls and scrolls of Chris' eyes carry him out to sea. The colour curling around his form like the white ribbons of sea foam. 

He remembers how easy it was to push Chris up agains the wall of his hotel room the first time. How easy it was to thread his fingers into his hair. How easy it was to kiss each cheek, his lips, his eyes. His eyes just as brilliant a blue then as they are now. 

"Max," Chris whispers, as he tugs Max down onto the sheets. "Please."

Max runs a hand through Chris' hair, before he slides his hand down to take hold of Chris' cock. He feels as Chris groans at the initial contact, and how his brilliant blue eyes never leave his. 

-x-

**Tupelo Honey - Van Morrison - 6:54**

_~~She’s~~ He's as sweet as tupelo honey/ ~~She’s~~ He's an angel of the first degree/ ~~She’s~~ He's as sweet as tupelo honey_

Max kisses like a house on fire. Creating little pockets of want and need in his system. Feelings that Chris loved and hated when they left. 

The first slide of Max's lips against his are like honey. Chris kisses back, wanting desperately to re-create at least some part of Max's kisses. Max always laughs at him. At his desperation. His fervour. 

Chris knows he should be madder at Max for that, but he can't. He wants to get lost in Max every time. 

He succeeds about nine times out of ten.

Chris feels the water as it sluices down his back, feels Max's fingers as they curl in his wet strands. He can feel as Max jerks his hips, and groans as he comes. He can feel as Max's come slides down his throat. 

Like liquid honey. 

"I get lost in you all the time," Chris says, as Max pulls him to his feet. 

"I know, I know," Max repeats over and over like some kind of litany. 

-x-

**Brooklyn Radio - Low Level Flight - 3:28**

_Go home and take that fall./ Turn off the lights, turn on the radio/ this Brooklyn_

Chris remembers the first time he took Max to New York. How Max had stared at the sky-reaching buildings, and commented on the sights and sounds. 

After the Cup final, Chris knows he will be going back to Smithtown. He is still trying to figure out how long of a drive it is to Montreal, and Montreal to New York. Or how many roundtrips he and Max can make until they have to head to whichever city they are called to in the fall. 

Which is why when he and Max get back to their apartment complex he is mildly surprised when Max drops a plane ticket into his lap.

He looks at him. Max's eyes say it all. 

Chris smiles. 

-x-

**Eyes on Me - Faye Wong - 5:34**

_Darling, so there you are/ With that look on your face/ As if you're never hurt/ As if you're never down_

The ride back to their apartment is quiet, like both know what they want to say, but neither wanting to break the silence.

Chris keeps his eyes on the road, watching as the city comes to life. Downtown Vancouver is ostentatious, but comforting. In some ways it reminds him of New York. 

Max sighs, and shifts in his seat. 

It distracts Chris for a moment. He turns his head, before he focuses on the road again.

"Want to talk about it?" 

"No," Max replies. "There isn't much to be said."

Chris grips the steering wheel. "You must have something to say."

Max shakes his head. "Distract me, Chris, please. I need … we need a distraction."

-x-

**Breathe - Michelle Branch - 3:32**

_So just give me one good reason/ Tell me why I should stay/ 'Cause I dont wanna waste another moment/ in saying things we never meant to say_

The morning after they first sleep together has Chris laying awake in their hotel room bed, staring at the ceiling.

He supposed he should be questioning what exactly happened the night before, if he wasn't too busy admiring how nice of a ceiling it actually was. Max shifts next to him, his breathing calming Chris somewhat. 

Chris glances over briefly, taking in the curve of Max's back, the length of his spinal cord. He wonders what would happen if he traced a line from Max's tailbone up, watching the way the bones and ligaments connected to the rest of his body.

Silly thought indeed.

-x-

**Slow Show - The National - 4:08**

_You know I dreamed about you/ for twenty-nine years before I saw you/ You know I dreamed about you/ I missed you for/ for twenty-nine years_

"I'm sitting in a near empty bar in Montreal, wondering how many beers it will take before I can get the taste of you out of my mouth," Max says.

Chris has to hide his laughter at Max's bluntness, and shifts his cellphone so he can set down his keys. 

"I miss you," Max says. "I miss your hands and what they did to me. I miss your eyes and how they always looked at me when I came. I miss -"

"Are you drunk?" 

Max chuckles. "If I told you I was, it'd be a lie. And if I told you I wasn't, it would also be a lie."

"No riddles, Max."

"I dream about you. I dream about you all the time. When I can see you next. Touch you. Take your cock in my mouth."

"I'm hanging up now, Max." Chris looks out his apartment window down at the streets of New York. "Call me when you're not drunk."

-x-

**Just like Heaven - The Cure - 3:32**

_You/ Soft and only/ You/ Lost and lonely/ You/ Strange as angels/ Dancing in the deepest oceans/ Twisting in the water/ You're just like a dream_

There was a magic in just being next to Max in the locker room. No-one quite understood what it was about their bond. If anyone did have a clue, they never did ask. 

Chris was sure he heard Burr telling Kes one day that what he and Max had must be a 'Habs thing.' 

He wanted to laugh at Burr's comment. Sure, Montreal had been great, but he knew it was something else. Something deeper.

Max was like a tangible piece of what mattered in his life. Something he was sure he couldn't picture his life without.

"What are you smiling about, _mon ami_?" Max asked, glancing over at him.

"You," Chris says simply.

Max smirks. 

-x-

**What's the Time in NYC - Garou - 4:19**

_So many miles away from here I just remembered/ We never said goodbye/ So I wrote you a note/ Left it in the pocket of your coat/ Reminding you I'm missing you_

Max and him part at the Departure gate in YVR. Max is heading for Domestic departures, Chris is destined for the International deck. 

They both look at each other. Max has his hands tucked into the pockets of his pants, Chris has his tucked into his jeans. They both seem oblivious to the stares and whispers they are getting from the strangers.

Whispers of 'that's Chris Higgins and Max Lapierre' can be heard above the din of the bustling sounds of YVR. 

"I should go," Max finally says. 

Chris and him part without another backwards glance. 

It isn't until he's sitting on his seat on the plane that Chris finally notices the white envelope peeking out from the side of his carry-on bag. He un-tucks the flap and pulls out a simply folded sheet of paper. 

_We had a great run, mon ami. Je t'aime. Hopefully we're back in Van in the fall. Montreal's not too far. - M._

-x-


End file.
